MAKO
by NikoNikoRice
Summary: Names are important things. They show that we’re alive, that we exist. At the same time, if a person is alone, a name holds no value or power. The person is nothing but a nameless, faceless, soon to be forgotten human being. Sometimes, not even that.
1. Prologue

Hello! *Waves hand shyly*

This is my first fan fiction ever, so I apologize in advance if it isn't very good. That being said, it may be kind of confusing for a little while, but keep in mind that this is a prologue, and that's also why it's so short haha. If you are super confused talk to me and I will see if I can help:/D

I hope you guys like it! If you do I will keep writing…oh, I'm so nervous haha. If I end up continuing with this, the rating will go up for later chapters.

Disclaimer: I don't own this…that's why it's fan fiction XD

* * *

_**Prologue**_

_Everyone has a name._

_Scientists don't give us names. They give us pain, they give us apathy, and they give us fear…insanity. They give us death…sometimes they give us life. But our names? Scientists didn't give us those. _

_We get numbers, letters, all jumbled together…those are not our names. Our names are given to us, by those most close to our heart. Many of them are laughable, comical even, to those not aware. To me, they are beautiful. But beauty is a fleeting thing, and my mind has trouble remembering the sight._

_My heart has all but forgotten its touch._

_I remember meanings, meanings to the names, that is. We…whoever 'we' might be, made a story so as to not forget. "A __**memory**__ of an __**earth**__, where in the __**beginning**__ there was a __**messenger **__who"- I…I wish I could remember the rest…maybe I'd have a name then, maybe they'd have names as well. My mind holds everything, and here I've lost the key._

"_Who are you?" I ask my dreams. They are quick to reply…and always the same._

"_**Who are you?"**_

_Answers are elusive, and I always stand there gaping. My dreamscape is but three colors. Black, white, and green. When I'm asked that question though, the mirror to my own, I see other things. Flashes of colors I don't know the names for. After all, I only know three colors._

_I never have an answer. I'm convinced that's why the flashes disappear. Maybe my mind is trying to bait me into recollection?_

_I don't think it's working._

_While the bait, that sinking, sticky thing, has definitely grabbed hold of my brain, I have yet to receive a reward. Geez…even in my dreams I'm unlucky. Go figure, maybe dreams really do play off real life experiences. It'd make a lot of sense._

_I try to find explanations for why I forget, but any I capture are swiftly lost when I wake. Reality is too hard for one person alone._

…_maybe I don't remember because everyone is gone. After all, I don't think names are all that important when there is no one around to call you by it._

_I don't have a name._

_Not anymore. Not when I'm all alone._

* * *

I hope this wasn't too horrible, sorry again for how short it is haha. I'm still not so sure about this, haha, so please tell me if you'd like me to continue, or to just drop it all together.


	2. Whisper

Wow…so, I know it sounds super lame but…I didn't expect to get three reviews for a dinky little prologue! Especially when I'm so new…

THANK YOU! –Blushes and goes off to hide-

I hope this does you guy's justice, because it's only because of you that I'm trying to continue to write this at all! I know it's still probably very confusing, but don't worry, it will all become clear eventually haha. If you have any questions, please ask, and I'll try and help. Thanks again! C/:

* * *

**Whisper**

'…_Run…'_

'_Run…away…'_

'_**RUN!!!**__'_

* * *

With intense green eyes backed by a soft glow, a curtain of silver hair, and a frame at an estimated 6'1" Sephiroth was, by no means, unnoticeable. But on the streets of Midgar, even the most notable feature or event could be overlooked by the sheer mass of human existence.

Walking through the dirty cluster that was Midgar's people, and seeing the darkened skyline brought on by man's smog and poison, Sephiroth was disgusted. It was the middle of the afternoon.

He didn't want to be here.

But…a mission was a mission, and he would complete it, no matter his feelings. In the end, this wasn't about him. Sephiroth would never forget that fact…ever.

Bumping into a man on the congested sidewalk, Sephiroth gave a quiet "Sorry" and removed himself in favor of one of the numerous alleys that spider webbed throughout Midgar's separate plates. Even though this was the upper plate, the place still had the air of something unclean. If Sephiroth was asked on whether the upper plates were cleaner than the lower plates, the slums, he would have to say that the lower, in his opinion, were by far, much cleaner.

Sephiroth could imagine the incredulous stare he would get from said person. They would ask about the cities cleanliness, and he would reply about its corruptness. Sephiroth snorted mentally at the irony, and continued walking through the myriad of garbage, drug users, and the cities general misfortune.

It didn't concern him.

Coming to a stop by a dilapidated shack, half falling apart with bars on its lone little window, Sephiroth knocked. Quick and to the point, he wanted this over and done with as fast as possible. The smell was atrocious.

Muffled cursing, much louder to Sephiroth's enhanced ears, could be heard through the water stained and rusting door. Within the distinct sound of shattering glass, there was the noise of locks being scraped open hastily. A moment of silence followed before the door was flung open, nearly hitting Sephiroth, much to his annoyance. Steeling his already monotone expression to hide his thoroughly disgusted senses, Sephiroth was met with a burst of air smelling like rotten eggs and booze.

A ruddy face full of pockmarks, dirty brown hair, and eyes like little grey pebbles popped out of the door. His gaze swept over Sephiroth in an irritated manner, before speaking in a gravelly, congested, voice.

"Wha' you want?" He enquired.

Sephiroth remained silent before speaking in a blank, but stern voice. "I have brought a message."

"An tha' is…? Well? Spit it out!" The man growled, not liking the focused and set gaze that was directed at him.

"We are tired of waiting for what you owe us, we performed our part of the bargain, and it's time for you to perform yours." Sephiroth quoted, waiting for a response. If the man tried to run, he was prepared to go after him.

"…Fucking AVALANCHE…" Was all the man grumbled, before slamming the door to his shack shut with a screeching bang.

Sephiroth's first reaction was to go after him, but thought better of it when he didn't hear any locks sliding into place, and instead heard more cursing and what sounded to be the movement of objects around the inside of the shanty. If movement meant thrown across the room, that is. Standing outside for a couple of minutes, Sephiroth was about to go in and retrieve the information himself when the door swung back open.

Clutching what appeared to be a cracked and dirty CD case in one of his grubby hands, the man all but threw it at Sephiroth. "There!" He said. "There's AVALANCHE's precious information! Now I dun' my part, so you go and tell AVALANCHE that I don' want nothing to do with em no more! You tell em! An…if they don' listen, then I'll go tell Shinra everything I know!" The ugly man threatened, crossing his arms over his potbelly defensively.

"That would be…most unwise." Sephiroth stated, adding his own threat to the mix. The man gulped, he was nervous of this one. Sephiroth opened his mouth again to speak, but the man had already turned and slammed the door shut quickly in his fear.

"Coward." Sephiroth mumbled, turning towards where he had previously come from.

'Won't have to worry about that one, I suppose.' He thought to himself, slightly proud of his simple and all too real threat as he walked back into one of the many alleys. Dusting off the black material of his pants, and with the CD placed securely in one of the hidden pockets of his leather duster, Sephiroth pulled out his cell phone from his pants pocket.

Dialing a familiar number, he put the phone up to his ear and waited. One ring…two rings…thre- "Speak of the devil!" Came a familiar, cheerful voice from the phone. "We were just talking about you grandpa, what's up?"

"Zackary…don't call me a grandpa."

"But you act just like o"- He was cut off by Sephiroth.

"I have the information and I'm heading back to your location."

The line was quiet for a second.

"…That's good!" The phone exclaimed a moment later. Sephiroth chuckled slightly at Zack's simple statement.

Yes, it was a good.

There was a pause before Zack continued. "You think…this one will have what we need?" The question was asked quietly, a hint of hope riding on the edge of the phones fuzzy reception.

Sephiroth stopped walking, his head slightly down causing his long bangs to fall across his face. This effectively blocked anyone who might have been able to see his eyes, if anyone was around. In the same monotone voice used for the informant earlier he replied. "…Maybe…"

The next thing spoken was something Sephiroth had heard many times. Sometimes…he didn't think it was true. But he was glad of the reminder…count on Zack to hold all the hope, even when everyone else had forgotten theirs. 'He is the keeper of what we might forget. We're lucky that he's so generous with it…' Sephiroth thought to himself.

He was pulled out of his thinking by Zack's "Hope".

Through the grainy sound quality, like snapping wires, was the phrase.

"We'll find him."

* * *

After going over few minor details with Zack, Sephiroth was once again on his way, information in hand.

Walking out of an alleyway with a particular stench, far beyond any Sephiroth had ever encountered, he came upon the grey cobbled stone of Midgar's street once more. Contemplating going down and through the mass of people to get to his destination, he began to get irritated.

Sephiroth wasn't an anxious man, nor was he fearful of an untimely death, but at that exact moment, he was torn. He had the information. No one could take it from him, so why not just take his time and go the safer direction?

He growled at his indecision.

Looking in the direction of his first choice, he saw the makings of a fight underway as two men had bumped into each other. Both appeared to hold their pride high above their heads, as they started to shout at one another.

'It appears…my decision has been made for me.' He thought, not wishing to be caught up in something so trivial. Faster way it was, no matter how sour a taste filled his mouth.

Turning away from the now open fighting, Sephiroth proceeded to cut his way through the crowd, and towards the Shinra complex.

Shinra. Electrical company turned world ruler. By utilizing mako, the planet's lifeblood, they had gained enough power to effectively run the world.

The mere thought of it made him want to vomit. 'Well…not vomit. I'm too angry for that…' Sephiroth thought despairingly, looking towards the now looming structure he would need to pass.

What the structure might hold…his most precious person, perhaps…

Sephiroth was pulled from his thinking by the change in quality of what he was walking on. It was brown grey…it was clean. Stopping himself, Sephiroth chanced a look up, not even realizing he had been looking down at his feet till now.

Brown and grey squares circled a chiseled fountain spewing forth sparkling drops of water. In terms of grandness, it wasn't the best. But it was nice enough. Take your kids there, eat lunch, find out they've disappeared…

Shinra logos were stamped everywhere, proclaiming excellence and honor in red defiance. It made Sephiroth's eyes burn in hatred.

Excellence, honor, a pretty fountain to calm his thoughts and hurts…

They were useless to him.

The twinkling electric stars merely a façade, the stout structure serving no purpose but to incur his barely contained wrath.

Shattering glass snapped his attention up, and to, the now destroyed glass doors of the Shinra complex's entrance. A figure in black and blue fell into an undignified roll to try and relieve some of the force. It finally stopped its tumble with hands and knees resting on the cobbled square.

Time seemed to of stopped in that instant, as much for the figure as for Sephiroth.

Sephiroth felt a tingle run through his spine, a whisper in his ear.

Before he could come to terms with what he was feeling, Sephiroth became aware of pounding boots and shouts.

The figure also seemed to have noticed, because in that instant, it was trying to scramble its way up and onto its feet. A burst of blue clad figures, fifteen of them Sephiroth counted, came rushing out onto the square. Grunts.

The figure was surrounded before it could get up on its wobbly legs. A grunt came forward with a pair of cuffs.

This just seemed to set the figure off.

In a flash of black and blue, it began to fight. It snarled and punched, and kicked at its captors.

Sephiroth was so distracted by the spectacle, and on whether he should intervene, that he did not notice the two suited figures walking out from behind him. Only when one was right beside him did he take note of their presence. Sephiroth was not pleased.

Turning his attention to them, but still maintaining his awareness on the struggle across from him, he waited for the suited figures to say something. They were Turks, noting by the black and white suits. The group responsible for handling all of Shinra's dirty work.

Sephiroth wasn't going to say anything, unless they did first. He wouldn't risk getting caught.

The one beside him, the red head who was dressed sloppier than the other, whistled at the spectacle. Four of the grunts were on the ground. It didn't look like they'd be getting up anytime soon.

"Yo, Rude. Quite a show, eh?" The red head drawled, quirking an eyebrow up, but not turning around.

"Yeah." Was the quiet response from the other, who walked up beside, Sephiroth would hazard a guess, his partner.

They both just watched.

Seven of the grunts were down now, the figure still scrambling for escape. This action was effectively blocked by another grunt, this one appearing directly in front of the figure, meaning to stop it.

The only thing stopped was the grunts life.

With speed Sephiroth had seen in only the direst of situations, when one was fueled by adrenaline and powered by fear, the figure jumped onto the grunt. Grabbing the grunts head with both hands, the figure twisted. A grinding snap could be made out, as the grunts vertebrae ground into each other. The grunt fell limp, and the figure was surrounded by the remaining Seven before it could hurry back up, and off the corpse.

At the snapped neck, Rude appeared to of had enough.

"Reno."

"Yeah?"

"Let's do our job already, he needs to be stopped." The bald, brown man in glasses stated, frowning.

Reno looked on for another moment before grimacing, rubbing the back of his head in which a ponytail was made apparent.

"There's a little, uh, problem with that, partner…"

"…What did you do?" Rude turned toward his partner questioningly.

Sephiroth noted only five grunts left, which were trying rather unsuccessfully to hold the figure down.

Reno looked sheepish. "Well I didn't really do anything." The 'do' had been elongated. "I just…kinda forgot the uh, tranquillizer in the car…"

"Reno…" Was the single, exasperated, response. Sephiroth had to wonder if they really were Turks. They didn't act like it…

"Look" Drawled Reno once more. "I'll just, run back to the car and grab it. I'm sure you can handle it till then."

"Reno…" Rude growled out again, a lot more threat coming through in his voice.

"Okay, okay! So you might have a little trouble, but I'll be quick! And if you're so worried about your face mopping the floor-"Reno spoke quickly, before pointing at Sephiroth. "Have this guy help you. He looks more than capable, what with all those muscles and that combat knife hidden in his jacket."

They were Turks. No doubt about it Sephiroth thought irritably.

Before Rude could retort, Reno was already running.

Rude huffed, turning to Sephiroth.

"Will you help?" There were only two grunts left.

"…Should I?" Sephiroth asked back.

"He might hurt someone else if he gets away."

"How is that my problem? I don't care about Shinra's problems."

Rude raised an eyebrow, looking at him through tinted glasses. "He might hurt someone other than in Shinra."

Sephiroth frowned. Should he care? He supposed he should…

The meaty crack of a body hitting the weeping fountain brought Rude into action, not waiting for an answer.

There was only one grunt left when Rude intervened.

The grunt ran.

Grabbing hold of the figure's arm, Rude surprised him; it was a 'him' Sephiroth surmised based on the Turks usage of words and the now evident lack of hips and a flat chest.

Cranking his arm back behind him, Rude tried to steer the figure down to the ground. 'He' wouldn't have it, and snarled. Struggling, which must have been a very painful thing to do, what with his arm being yanked behind his back; he fell to the ground unceremoniously.

Rude was now straddling him, trying to catch his hands as they lashed out and scratched at his face. With a punch to the nose, and a particularly powerful heave, the figure managed to get Rude off of him. Getting up to run once more, the figure was startled when, Rude, with a bloody nose, reached out and snagged his foot.

Rude yanked swiftly, bringing the figure down on his stomach. Getting up from his previous position, he once again tried to secure the figure on the ground.

When it appeared as if the frantic escapee couldn't do what he wanted, escape, things got more serious.

Kicking Rude's legs out from under him, he whirled around and jumped on him. Rude was about to retaliate, but wasn't fast enough to block a fist catching him on the right side of his face. Five more rounds to the face and Rude was thoroughly disoriented.

Sephiroth started to tense.

The figure opened his fists, and closed them around Rude's neck, slowly tightening. Rude was weakly trying to struggle away, grabbing his assailant's wrists. The figure just tightened his grip, causing Rude to make wheezing chokes as he tried to breathe. Black spots were taking over his vision.

Sephiroth surged forward and kicked the figure off of Rude.

Rude didn't move. 'Probably unconscious.' Sephiroth noted.

Standing up to his full height, Sephiroth steadied himself, and faced the figure on the ground in front of him.

He was unnerved by what he saw.

The figure was wearing a helmet. It covered his entire head, except for the bottom of his nose and his mouth, which on closer inspection, were bleeding. Blood was also falling in twin trails down his cheeks from under the helmet. It was also dripping from what Sephiroth could only guess as his ears. The figure was panting; blood coated his teeth, and little pieces of glass were sticking out from him, especially from the shoulder he'd used to get through the door.

Sephiroth couldn't believe something so banged up could have fought for so long and won. It didn't seem human.

The helmet wasn't meant for battle. It had circular openings all over the temple, and the back of the head. Openings for tubes and wires. The figure was wearing a black and blue skin tight suit. It also had circular openings on it, of which, most were concentrated around the torso and spine. Wires were dangling from some of the openings.

This wasn't some SOLDIER or random cadet going wild…this was an experiment.

The realization was a sinking feeling in Sephiroth's gut.

Could he really stop something trying to run from its torturers?

'Who says he's running?' The thought was ridiculous; it was obvious he was trying to escape…

'He's wild. Rabid. You saw what he did to those grunts. What happens when he gets out and into the public?'

His thoughts whirled.

No…he couldn't let something like this get loose, no matter how much he wished he could just walk away. The figure was snarling and hissing and growling…it wasn't acting human. He seemed more an animal, a monster, than anything else. Sephiroth couldn't let him go…not when humanity seemed to have taken its leave.

The thought 'didn't seem' nagged at him.

Sephiroth didn't dwell, wouldn't…he couldn't.

The thing tried to run again. Sephiroth ran after it, and grabbed its arm, roughly pulling him back. The figure yowled, kicking out and hitting Sephiroth in the shin. He ignored the pain and hit him in the stomach, still holding him. Gasping, the figure did not stop struggling, even when doubled over.

Sephiroth was having trouble containing the thing. He growled irritably at the odds of one so small giving him so much trouble.

The thing was only 5'8", at best.

Feeling a sharp pain in his arm, Sephiroth looked down.

It had…bitten him!

Sephiroth hit the figure in the side with one of his fists, hoping to bruise, if not break one of its ribs.

Another hiss was all that Sephiroth got in return. Taking the opportunity to get him down to the ground, Sephiroth straddled the figures stomach pinning his arms. Another struggle seemed to take place, but was quickly subdued in that the figure didn't seem to be able to fight anymore. The only noise was that of a lightly panting Sephiroth, and a wheezing experiment.

Hearing boots stomping across the square in rapid succession, Sephiroth looked up to see Reno running towards them, toting what appeared to be a tranquillizer hand gun.

A light sound brought Sephiroth's attention back down, to the experiment. His lips were moving, but even with his enhanced hearing, Sephiroth could not decipher what was being said.

Reno was by them now with the tranquillizer. The experiment was still muttering a silent barrage of words only he could hear.

Kneeling down, Reno moved the experiments head away and to the side, and delivered the tranquillizer through one of the circular holes by the neck. Reno was up again, then, confident that Sephiroth had things in control for the moment, and went over to his partner.

Sephiroth looked down…it was still muttering…he could tell by the angle of the things head that it was staring at him.

Why was it staring at him?

The mutterings started to slow and slur together. Sephiroth could hear people coming into the square now, rushing, walking, and talking. They were Shinra people.

"…"

Sephiroth looked down at the experiment again…was he hearing things?

"…Pl…please…"

Sephiroth's eyes widened.

"What?"

The figure had gone limp, and before Sephiroth could really process what had happened, he was asked if he could 'Kindly move'.

He did.

Shinra medics crowded around the dead, or unconscious grunts. Reno appeared to have been able to revive his partner, patting him on the back and grinning.

Shinra scientists crowded the experiment. Sephiroth wanted to leave.

Now.

A stretcher with cuffs and straps was brought out from the broken glass entrance. The experiment was placed on it, and slowly carried away back into hell.

Sephiroth watched.

As the stretcher was making its way back to the building, it was stopped by a skinny hand.

That hand was connected to an even skinnier body, clothed in a white lab coat. Greasy black hair pulled back in a ponytail, black eyes like a vulture, glasses, and a sharp nose…a crooked smile.

Hojo.

He wouldn't recognize Sephiroth. It was too long ago for him to remember, there was too many changes to Sephiroth's physicality's.

But Sephiroth recognized him.

At that moment, that exact moment…Sephiroth believed he could tear someone's head from their shoulders. Hojo's head. Right there, nothing was stopping him. He could feel his wrath boiling in an uncontrolled bout of magma.

Sephiroth stood there. And he watched. He watched as Hojo looked around, surveying the scene of disaster and carnage. Hojo sneered at the grunts weakness. He sneered at Rude.

Hojo smiled at the experiment.

With a flick of his wrist, Hojo walked back to the Shinra complex, stretcher in tow, through the broken glass.

Like the great maw of a beast.

Most of the grunts were already loaded onto stretchers, or zipped into body bags by now. Everyone was leaving, going back to do their respective jobs or to fix the mess that had been created.

Reno walked over to Sephiroth, a cheap grin marring his features. His grey eyes weren't grinning. They were serious.

"Yo…um…thanks for the help, names Reno."

Sephiroth just looked at him.

"Guess you already figured that out though…" He muttered to himself.

Continuing the conversation Reno asked. "And your name is…?"

Sephiroth didn't say anything. He wouldn't give them anything of his.

Ever.

Reno sighed and was silent for a couple seconds, looking at the mess around them.

"It's understandable if you don't tell me. I get it, yo." More silence. Reno turned then, and started walking. Probably to his car, Sephiroth noted.

"That thing…"

Reno slowed and turned slightly.

"Was it human?" Sephiroth asked. He kept his voice neutral, but his gut was twisting.

Reno gave a short and bitter laugh. He smiled again, but it was one filled with grief…and regret? Turning back around he, once again, began to walk away.

"…How should I know?" Came the echoed response directed at Sephiroth's question.

Crawling across the wind, it brushed his cheek, and whispered in his ear.

* * *

Was it okay? Please tell me if I should stop, or to keep going! Haha


	3. Breathe Easy, Breathe Deep

Hi everyone, I finally got a chance to write a little bit tonight and thought I should put it up for you guys :D. I'm sorry the wait was so long, and the text for this chapter so short…but…but at least it's something D*8…please forgive me? DX lol

* * *

**Breathe Easy, Breathe Deep**

* * *

Reno could handle a lot of things. He could handle killing, he could handle surviving, and Reno could damn well handle his job. Being born in the slums, Reno quickly became aware of how the world truly worked. He learned at a young age that the only thing truly turning Gaia, round and round, was a dog-eat-dog mentality. If someone couldn't handle that or couldn't adapt, then they were killed or used. Either way, being thrown away like garbage was the end result.

Reno wasn't garbage. So he used what he'd been taught on the streets, and he joined the Turks.

He told himself in the beginning that the only person he could truly rely on was himself. He knew his capabilities, knew how far he could get with his own strength. Reno truly believed that he could handle anything and everything that might be pushed, or propelled, his way.

The Turk couldn't understand the naiveté of his former self. For all the things that Reno could handle...there were so many more that he couldn't.

How could he foresee losing a piece of himself every time he pulled a trigger, or beat someone down?

How could he look into a person's eyes that had just lost everything…and feel nothing?

It wasn't that sad eyed girl, beaten, and used that crippled his spirit…it was the terrifying reality that he, he himself was disappearing. That the moisture of his emotions would slowly leave his body, turning into a fog so thick, that getting lost was the only option.

Reno never knew about the god awful loneliness that would slowly eat him away, squeezing and digesting his spirit like a vice tightening until everything was numb or crushed. He'd like to say that he had found a cure…but sitting in ones apartment getting shit-faced, alone, was definitely not the answer. In fact, it became a physical testament to how truly broken and lonely the man was.

Reno knew it was shameful…but then, if he had known the true repercussions of his choices, he wouldn't be here.

He'd fallen so far down the well that the only thing he could do was dig further, in the hopes that one day he'd claw his way out, or be ground into the earth.

Reno didn't know in the beginning that he couldn't handle his own spirit. Like a child that has set down his favorite kite by the sea, resting it nestled in the sand, only to find it's flown away in his ignorance. Stupid, stupid…stupid…

His only saving grace…the only thing keeping him afloat in this sea of lies and loneliness…was something even more broken than himself. Something so monstrous…so innocent.

* * *

A shrill, nasally voice could be heard, sheering through the dark curtain laid over a chemically induced mind.

At first, things were good. But then the mist began to clear, and everything became…bad. Bad was really the only thought that came to his soon to be less than coherent thoughts.

Everything hurt…hurt so badly that every breath of oxygen was like breathing in needles.

It hurt…it hurt, hurt, and HURT! So unbearably so…

Every skin cell raged, a forest fire burning through his pores. Light seared his retinas and nightmares followed every drape of his eyelids. This was the first time he'd been conscious in a long while, at least, he thinks…and god… it hurts. Hurt.

There were hands on him now…his world tilted, a swirling pool of vomit like colorizations.

Hurt…hurt…hurt…

'What…was I…doing?' he repeatedly recites to himself, if only to distract himself until the now welcome oblivion came to take him again. 'What was I doing, what was I doing, what was I doing? What was I doing before? Before…before?'

He couldn't remember.

It hurt too much.

Just a splash of blurred pastels and colors…green, and white…the good kind…red…and then nothing…

The feeling of flying overcame his tired and battered frame for only a moment, till gravity attacked in the ruthless way of its nature.

Cold cement met a fevered body, a circle of ice sheering through to the bones of his ankles.

Red…white…green…so bad…so good…so…

* * *

Sephiroth kept walking.

He would keep walking, and he would not think. Something about what had happened mere minutes ago disturbed him. Not in a light way, but in a dark enveloping kind of way. It felt foreign and familiar, lovely and wrong. And he would have none of it at the moment. Not with what he longed for, yearned for, so close to his fingertips. In his fingertips really, Sephiroth thought, as he cast his green eyes downward to look for the hidden location of the CD in his jacket.

No…he would not think on that till later, later, or not at all.

It was his nature.

Walking briskly away from the scene before had led Sephiroth into another labyrinth of mouse trap walls and lingering smells. Rounding a corner, the crunch of debris crackling under thick black rubber, Sephiroth came upon what he was seeking.

A hole inflicted within the cement and metal ground protection of Midgar's upper class.

To most, this unassuming crumbling and decayed dark tunnel downward would be nothing more than an indicator to leave. No one wandered off dark drops, not even the less than proper. When one did not know what lay below, the general populace tended to behave like that of a frightened kitten caught in the middle of a rain storm. Except…the only thing wet for them was their courage.

In all actuality, this hole was a wonderful surprise, a gift from the city, to those who could, and were willing, to climb and navigate in the dark. Not only did it not exist on any of the city maps or plans, but it was so far out of the way, and so dark, that it wasn't deemed important, and therefore did not draw any attention.

It was a passage to Sector 7, or more importantly in Sephiroth's eyes, to 7th Heaven.

It was the closest thing to a home he'd ever had, and the home to which his beloved would be introduced to, once he was found. Sephiroth did not blindly crave or hope, finding it ignorant, and most assuredly setting a person up for disappointment and hurt.

He would not be excited till what he wished for lay within the palm of his hands.

Therefore, Sephiroth thought, it was almost hypocritical in manner of him to let his mind and spirit take such desperate indulgence in "Hope". But like many things, and so few things all the same, Sephiroth stopped thinking about it.

This wasn't hope to him.

It was reality.

Snapping out of his quiet reverie, Sephiroth just as silently and efficiently made his way to the whole, and began to climb down.

The jagged cement and sticking steal rebar reminded Sephiroth to get Zack and Angeal, or maybe Genesis just for the laugh of listening to him complain about the dust in his hair, to add a ladder of some sort. Or a rope. A rope would work just as well, Sephiroth thought as his boots lost purchase on some loose rubble.

A ladder would be preferable, though.

He could almost hear the sarcastic drawl in Genesis' voice if he could have heard Sephiroth's unspoken thoughts.

'How about we just install some stairs for you, your majesty, or better yet, let you travel down our backs. No, no, don't worry about us; you just go on your merry way.' And then he would snort and cross his arms, eyes betraying mirth.

Sephiroth snorted for him at the sentiment.

The jade and emerald glow of his eyes lessened slightly when he looked up towards the opening of the crude passage, causing his pupils to constrict with the intrusion of light. Not that he needed the light; he could see just fine Sephiroth told himself, as he finally dropped down and into an abandoned alleyway. Spray paint littered the walls, proclaiming profanities and gibberish in a myriad of colors, sizes, and shapes.

Surprisingly, or not so surprising, depending on a person's point of view, it was a welcome sight.

Walking down, surprise, another alley, Sephiroth finally came out into an opening that revealed the presence of a variety of run down businesses, bars, restaurants, drug deals…among other things, all clustered tightly together in a dirty heap.

Passed the begging men, around and away from the small and agile fingers of the children, a disinterested glare thrown to the whores, and Sephiroth was home.

The light of 7th Heaven's sign shone down upon Sephiroth's features light the gaunt and glazed eyes of the sick, but surrounded him with warmth like the arms of the mother he never had.

Home…

* * *

Aerith hummed lightly to herself as she tended the lightly colored flowers, cream white and canary yellow, in the pots above the windowsill of the top room of their little abode.

While she had a general love, the soft passion like that of a new mother, for the care of living things, this care was more out of nervous anticipation.

Zack was nervous too, she could tell. The light exhalation and movement coming from the back room a clear indication of his habit to do squats at inconvenient times. This made her laugh a little to herself, a soft thing to be sure, seeing as it wasn't too inconvenient at the moment.

There really wasn't anything to do but wait.

The chink of a knocked glass, and the light huff that followed from down below in the bar resonated up through the timbre of the walls. Tifa; Aerith noted.

Setting the little watering can Zack had gotten her as a gift down upon an old weathered dresser, Aerith instead focused her attention to the window in front of her, and the dirty expanse beyond. She hadn't seen the sky in a very long time; her memories told her that she missed it. Her heart did as well. Surely the sky would be somewhat frightening after such a long time living in what was essentially a proverbial cave, she thought to herself, but how exciting it would be to show him it for the first time.

Would he be scared, like she had been, laughing like Zack?

She couldn't wait. Couldn't wait for the opportunity of their little family to finally be complete again, to show him, and love him, and comfort him.

Feeling the gentle hand laid on her shoulder by Zack, she didn't need to look to know, she began to feel even more heartened.

Aerith knew that she wasn't the only one missing him. They all were. And soon…soon…he would be home. She smiled lightly, leaning lovingly into the warm embrace awaiting her.

He'd be home. The thought brought drops of moonlight to her eyes.

* * *

This is going to take forever to get anywhere. D*8…sorry guys.

Again, can't promise swift updates…-shot-…but I hope everyone liked this alright. C/:

Copeland, especially their song Should You Return really got me into a mood of creativity, and reminded me that I had a few hours to work on this little dinky chapter, so if you were excited or liked this chapter, thank them .* haha. It's probably not your cup of tea, but I really like them. Check em out if you like listening to all sorts of music C:. I had some rap and some metal/screamo on before them and it didn't really help the writing process hahaha.

Also, remember, I don't have a beta or anything like that except some tired blue eyes, so expect the occasional spelling/grammar/format mistake haha…goodness knows I make enough of them XD

Again, I'm very sorry, everyone, for the snail like pace! At least…at least snails are cute?...no?

D8

Lots of love and apologies,

LurkingSpork


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